Many poets consider writing verses for greetings cards beneath them.
Here at Shitespace, we don't.
You've robbed and raped and murdered too
And now the law's caught up with you,
But twenty years will fly like hours.
Just be careful in the showers.
You've squandered all your rent on booze
And now your home you're going to lose
But never fear, there are still more ways,
Like benches, subways or shop doorways.
Congratulations! You're a whore!
Your new career you will adore.
May it free you from the kitchen
And help fund your heroin addiction.
A have-a-go hero, your husband was
But now the bastard's dead.
He tried to stop my getaway
So I pumped him full of lead.
I've told you before, you fuckface
But once again you're in my space.
Well, this time you can wear the frown
Because I've let your tyres down.
Congratulations! You survived!
But next time you might not.
So, when you need a cry for help,
Take the bloody lot!
A loyal worker all your life,
Your job faces its nemesis.
These two gentlemen will now
Escort you off the premises.
Sorry to hear you've lost your job
You must feel quite a fool
The computer is quicker and better than you
Fuck off back to Liverpool.
This card is just a way
To lovingly convey
That you are just a wanker
Please don't send back a 'thank yer'.
A big Hurray on this fine day!
A mighty fine manoeuvre,
Your little baby, here at last!
Albeit down a hoover.
Congratulations! Hip hurrah!
You're very nearly dead,
A lovely party soon will start,
Inside your wizzened head.
You thought that you would never see
Again the light of day,
But now they've dug your corpse up
For the necrophiles to play.